The inner contents of my head. Here be dragons.

Death to me, because I deserve it.

I tried desperately to stay awake last night, only to fall asleep faster than I had wanted. Cue nightmares. I am exhausted. I have to get up and maintain a semblance of normalcy and pretend I’m ok. I have work, my teaching little children I assist with, and I don’t want them tainted by my depression. So I grin and pretend I am fine, when I am really a wreck, a twisted burned out wreck. Something you hurl into a landfill to be forgotten forever.

J hasn’t rung in two nights. I’m scaring him away too now. It’s what I always do- find something good and poison it with my shit.

I’m going to listen to the dark passenger because they want me dead, and now so do I. I am over the hope that I will be better, because I never will be. There is no cure for PTSD, so I don’t get to find a way out of this. I will always be a horrific burden.

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14 comments on “Death to me, because I deserve it.”

I’m kind of a silent follower of your blog, too scared to ever comment I guess.

I think the only cure for PTSD and other things is simply learning to live with it. It’s the constant process of healing, and growing, and learning new ways to view and experience life. Deep down I believe that everything happens for a reason, although I do struggle to remember that. But you deserve to live, and find a way to rise up. That doesn’t mean you will never struggle, or never hear voices again, but that you have the right, and the strength to keep on fighting it to have the life you deserve. They might be your voices, but they are not YOU.

This is such a scary blog. I hope you write soon so that every one knows you are okay. I have PTSD. There may not be a cure but there are treatments and they work. Believe me. I’ve been in that dark place and it is frightening. You just need to reach out and find your safe place. Think of a time when things weren’t dark. Find a really good therapist.

Oh sweetie, I’m sorry you are having such a hard time. You aren’t a burden, you aren’t poison or shit, you are just wounded. Lots of us with PTSD have been in that dark hellish place, and there is a cure: time and persistence. Please keep trying, you’re worth it. xoxo.

Life is some messed up battles sometimes. I’m glad you are so strong, but I’m sorry it’s so bloody difficult. I would honestly be fascinated to see what art you could produce during the rough times, and if it might help ease the pain a little. Sending you love and hugs!